


Hit Me Up

by leohanan



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Finger Fucking, Fondling, M/M, Tansgender Ging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-30 22:19:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6444124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leohanan/pseuds/leohanan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ging takes it out of his time to get something from Pariston.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit Me Up

It was a joyous evening outside, the children played in the streets and the birds chirped and twittered lightly. Any ordinary person would believe that all way right in the world. Which was true, in most senses. Couples took walks out in the parks, festivals were held outside, and everything was at peace in this particular part of the world.

Ging took a couple sips of the small canister of whiskey container he kept on his person. A day like this wasn’t so bad, he enjoyed the offerings of the vendors and other light things he could savour, but the crowd was uncomforting and he kept himself occupied with the burning of the alcohol down his throat. He barely felt the effects anymore, and seemed to just drink out of habit. He didn’t even feel like getting drunk at the moment. As though he rarely ever did.

Pariston had emailed him recently, an offer proposing valuable information he had been searching for in exchange for “something that only Ging could give him”. That “something” wasn’t specified. In fact, nothing was too specific at all. The vague gestures were nothing new on Pariston’s part. He was always making his moves to imply something provoking, or underlyingly questionable when it came to his fellow zodiacs. But nothing in the email had the usual backstabbing undertones to it, so he takes it upon himself to personally locate the bastard.

Which wasn’t necessarily hard, for pariston was very casually wearing one of his disgustingly bright coloured dress shirts over top of more bright neon dress pants rolled up at the beach side where the party was held at. He casually held a popsicle in his mouth, paparazzi taking a few pictures of his visage before returning to the life of the party with other celebrities. Ging squinted at the sunlight pouring over the sandy beaches. He weaved his way through the crowd of people in bathing suits soaking in the sun, and made it to the spot where Pariston was sitting. Of course the guy would be sitting in a place he could easily be found yet annoying for Ging to be in. What a bother. Ging sighed.

“Yo, Pariston.” Pariston looks over his shoulder and gives a gentle smile, his prize finally having shown up. “What is it that you wanted?”

“I wanted to see you again for starters. Sometimes, I can’t help but see something and have you flash through my mind.” He gazes over the shore of the beach lazily. “You see that little starfish, washed up and not able to remove itself but wouldn’t even if it could? That’s you.” Ging rolled his eyes.

“You know I’m talking about the proposition on the safeguarded relics. I’ve been wanting access for a while, but those are privately owned and I have no means myself of getting a good look at them.” Pariston hummed to signal he heard. Luckily, Ging was prepared to banter with this guy for the next while. He was going to try harder than that to wear his patience thin.

“Hmm~” Pariston shifted to make room next to him. “Sit down with me and we can relax and talk.” And so he does, crossing his legs over and hunching his back as he stares into the horizon. Pariston brings his knees towards his chest and hugs them, leaning towards Ging and lightly touching his shoulder. Ging ruffles through his pockets and takes another swig of his whiskey canister.

Pariston glances down at the shorter man at his side.“Can’t spend a quiet evening with me sober? Or is it too difficult to deal with reality without being impaired?” Ging snorts. “This doesn’t affect anything. I like the taste.”

“Do you really? That must be some fine liquor in that small container you carry. I wonder what it tastes like myself. You have me curious.” Ging’s hand puts some distance between the canister and Pariston. Pariston giggles, leaning over fully to take his face and kiss his lips softly. The first was quick and almost chaste, but he goes in again almost immediately after and gives a deeper, more feeling kiss to taste the bitter alcohol and the musky breath of the elder man. Ging’s face twists in mild frustration and growls into it.

“It tastes like you Ging, bitter and rough.” His other hand reaches down to the band of Ging’s clothing. It’s always been hard, when he dresses like a snowstorm is coming his way, but he manages to worm his way in and caress the sides of his body. His finger worms itself into the band of the worn-out binder and he tries to snap at it. The thing is stiff and feels as though the material is worn off. And if there’s one thing Pariston knows by nothing but feel, it’s the quality of fabric. “This should definitely be replaced.” He coos. 

“Maybe. It works though.” Ging takes Paristons’ hand and gently pulls it away. Leaning in over for another couple kisses. It was almost routine at this point, banter and making-out, sometimes more.

“You’d feel much more free if you’d get something a bit more custom made. I mean, look at he, everything I wear is custom made and I feel great.” Colours of sarcasm and mockery painted his voice. Despite, the words had a point he couldn’t deny. Another irritation trick.

“I didn’t ask for advice, nor did I come for any.”

“You are absolutely right Ging! I should be giving you the details I promised! How could I be so forgetful? The important files are in my suite. It would be a shame if I had to go alone. He made a small, purposefully fake pout. “I do wish you would come with me.”

“Do I have a choice?” Ging grumbled.

~

“So.” Ging began, fingers feeling the smooth surface of the marble counter of the mini-bar of the suite. The places Pariston stayed in were always overly fancy and a pain to get to, always taking the penthouse of every five-star hotel he’s stayed at. The constant spoiled lifestyle made him wonder what it would feel like to actually desire these material pleasures, but the idea made him a bit nauseous. There was something unsettling about wanting things to fill your desires in life. It felt so empty. “What is it that you really want?”

“I already answered that before Ging.” Pariston gently place both hands onto Ging’s hips onto the counter. “I just wanted to see you.” His hands traveled up to the band of Ging’s clothing again, this time more forcefully getting through and tugging on the binder underneath. He rested his head on the crook of Ging’s neck biting and sucking the softer flesh present. Ging tilted his head and hummed in appreciation.

“So you’ll give me what I want after this.” Pariston didn’t answer, instead working the clothing off Ging. He lifts the shirt and tank-top all at once from him, knocking the ragged hat with it off his head. He immediately goes to the stiff binder, worming his way through then suddenly yanking up on it as well. Ging inhaled sharply.

“Hey, careful there idiot.” The binder lifts over his chest and Ging exhales, the constant pressure he had gotten comfortable with relieved momentarily. He shuts his eyes and tilts his head upwards as Pariston continues down and nibbles the lower parts of his neck. His hands fondle Ging’s chest, lightly smoothing around the nipple. The cool air makes Ging shiver into his touch.

“You seem to be breathing easier now. I dearly hope you aren’t wearing this too often Ging.” His head goes down to suck on a hardened nipple and his hands delved down into into his pants, sinking to the band of his boxers and rubbing the surface of both thighs. His Hands grazed the surface of his crotch, then dove between the legs to coax his legs further apart for better access

Ging complied, leaning further back and placing his hands onto the counter for balance. Pariston teased his slit, coating his fingers with the wetness forming. He uses on hand to slip two fingers into him, using his thumb to rub the clit gently. A loud, guttural groan escapes Ging’s mouth as he pushes his hips forward into Pariston’s hands. He continues at this pace, mouth going back up to his neck, then jawline as his hands continue to work itself inside Ging.

Ging’s breath becomes laboured, hands gripping the counter harder as he reaches his limit. He let’s out a tired, last groan as he orgasms into Pariston’s hand, breathing out the tension built up and legs giving way. He gulp, throat dry and scratchy from being manhandled.

“You happy?” Ging growled. Pariston hummed to confirm. “I am definitely.” He purrs. He lifts his hands out from Ging’s pants, walking over towards a drawer to get out a small usb drive. He doesn’t even bother to wipe his hands off and throws the small device at Ging, which he catches with one hand. The other hurriedly tries to get the binder over his chest again, the thing feeling stretched from his previous activity.

“You aren’t going to take care of yourself? You’ve just been playing with me.” Ging wonders out loud intentionally. Pariston laughs.

“Whenever I wish to pleasure myself, I can always recall your image from today. You’re a wonderful thing to think about.” Ging hurriedly scrambles for his clothes, his patience for Pariston worn down with his prize in hand and his ‘experience’ over with. He made no reply to Pariston - it wasn’t as though he could physically stop him from doing what he wanted afterwards. At least he was able to unwind here with the bastard.

“I’m taking my leave. And thanks for this.” He tosses the USB up into the air and snatches it again. “But if it’s fake, trust me when I’ll say you won’t be able to run from here fast enough.” Ging smirks at Pariston, who keeps his face at neutral amusement.

“I’m not suicidal, Ging.”


End file.
